On Wednesday afternoon, Jim finished cutting the grass at Mrs. Guardino’s neighbor’s house, then biked to Mrs. Wilson’s, completing all the yard work in three hours. Sweating, he knocked at the open back door.
“Come in, Jim.” Mrs. Wilson sat at the kitchen table in her two-piece swimsuit, drinking wine with a nearly empty bottle close by. She motioned him in, wearing a gold necklace with matching earrings.
“Mrs. Wilson, do you want to check things before I leave?”
She smiled lazily while assessing him from top to bottom. “Did you do everything on my list?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then no need for me to inspect. I trust you. Sit down.”
Jim wiped sweat from his face with a handkerchief.
“Come on, sit for a moment.”
He did. She poured a glass of wine and passed it to him.
“No, thank you, I’m
